The other day my wife and I were standing in line at Target, waiting to buy some G.I. Joe figures. As some of you may know, of all the brands that were a part of my childhood, the one that stands above all the others as my absolute favorite in the whole wide world is G.I. Joe, so naturally, it would seem, I’m kind of excited about any new Joe-themed products.

Try explaining that to the elderly lady standing behind me in the check-out line.

“Someone’s in for a surprise” she commented with a friendly tone. Assuming she thought I was probably buying them for my little nephew, Timmy’s birthday party at Chuck E Cheese’s, I just grinned and said, no, they were for me. “What, you’re going to play with ‘em?” the lady asked, half bemused, half making sure I wasn’t some sarcastic wise-guy. Already feeling this was going to take way too much explaining, I told her I just wanted to have them on display at home. We didn’t say much more, but the elderly lady’s assessment was clear – either I was incredibly tall for a second-grader, or the woman next to me wasn’t my wife, she was my social worker.

Between the big-screen G.I. Joe adaptation being released last Friday, and the annual Joe-Con in Kansas City this weekend, I’m being treated to a rose-tinted renaissance of toy collecting and cartoon watching. Combine this with all the other nostalgic re-visits being lavished on people my age lately – new Transformer and Tron movies, Ninja Turtle anniversary celebrations, and talk of A-Team and He-Man re-makes (no doubt “more dark and edgy”) for instance, and you start to see a trend.

If you like a good conspiracy theory, it’s almost like the entertainment industry is wise to the fact my current demographic is at the peak of it’s money-to-burn ability and wants nothing more than to pay for the luxury of feeling eight-years-old again. I’m being sarcastic, but I do quite seriously believe that a lot of people in their late twenties/early thirties go through something of a post-college crisis.

From personal experience I can share that after several years of senior school, four years of exams, going to college, and then the pressures of getting a foothold in a career, the thought of taking a trip to Toys R Us to buy Nerf blasters, or sitting around in my P.J’s watching Saturday morning cartoons, sounds pretty inviting. Ok, so both of those activities could be classed as audience research in the industry I’m lucky enough to be a part of, but you get my point. Many of us don’t want to grow up.

When did this happen? Is it a good thing? Is it even healthy?

It’s easy to point the finger at rapid increases in consumerism, advertising and media outlets as proponents to this trend, but there’s something deeper. My Grandfather’s generation didn’t grow up with SpongeBob on the television, SpongeBob cereal in the shopping cart and SpongeBob: The Video Game under the Christmas tree, but they did have childhoods and I don’t recall ever hearing of anyone in their 80’s having the urge to build a tree house, shoot tin cans with a slingshot, or some other wholesome activity that doesn’t require activation codes or an extra gig of RAM.

Sure, the desire to look or feel younger is practically part of our genetic makeup; Cleopatra bathed in milk and honey to stay young, and nowadays there are a plethora of age-defying creams, lotions and potions available to turn back the clock. None of them promise to make you feel like you’re back in single digits though. Not yet at least. No, this isn’t necessarily about being in any kind of physical shape, it’s more of an emotional need.

Does this urge to mentally regress into a cozy, sugar-coated shell pose any kind of problem though? It’s difficult to say. Like with any hobby or interest, there’s always going to be people who take it to the extreme. I remember not-watching an episode of Dr. Phil about a woman who’s fiancé had taken over the house with his Star Wars toy collection. True, the guy was absolutely obsessed, but Dr. Phil had the same kind of condescending derision you’d expect a bully to level at a little kid who just peed his pants. He just. Didn’t. Get it.

For now, looking at the situation analytically I can see this kind of self-indulgence as a money-sink and the result of having too much time on one’s hands, but those are only relative. For now it seems the trend is here to stay and I expect twenty years from now re-makes of classics like Hannah Montana and High School Musical will be highly anticipated. Zac Efron will be pushing 41 by then, so he’ll be a shoe-in for a teacher cameo.

And I’ll still be collecting G.I. Joes.